


Or What?

by OhMyGawdLookAtHer



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Avengers, M/M, Original Character(s), Superfamily, Superhusbands, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10082420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhMyGawdLookAtHer/pseuds/OhMyGawdLookAtHer
Summary: Steve just wanted Abigail to go to a public school, just like her older brother, because when Peter accidently broke cheap science equipment, Tony didn't have to pay out a couple of thousand bucks for it to be replaced, so that money could go to something better, like charity.But, noooo, Abigail wanted to go to a private school, and not just any old private school, the same private school that Harry Osborn went to.What could go wrong?





	

 

Steve grumbled as he manoeuvred past the crowd of camera-wielding paparazzi, who had seemingly come out of nowhere and swarmed the ninety-something old man. He refrained from pushing past anyone, understanding today's fascination and American's tradition of suing anyone for barely scraping your shoulder with theirs.

He just wanted to enter the private school in peace.

Steve had gotten a call from Abigail's principal.

Which usually meant his youngest child broke an expensive 'sciency' thing that he and Tony, mostly Tony, would have to pay for and of course, Steve and Tony didn't mind paying for it, they certainly had the money for it, they'd simply warn Abigail to be more careful and quietly wish she was more gentle like her older brother, Peter.

Yet, when Steve had answered, the principal did not heavily sigh into the phone, or, monotonously repeat the same sentence he droned about three times a month.

Steve had expected the words 'Abigail', 'Science', 'flask' and 'check'.

He did not expect 'fight'.

Needless to say, Steve was furious and utterly disappointed with his daughter, he had obviously anticipated that this day would come, that Abigail would lash back at society by joining an underground fight club and getting tattoos all over her hardened skin, and- 

Steve sighed, shook his head and finally made it through the heavily bolted gates, eventually finding his way towards the principal's waiting room. 

Abigail, his poor little baby, was slumped over in an overly large soft chair, her laces coming undone, her tights ripped with mud littering her skin, her knuckles gripped her uninformed, black skirt and the skin on the knuckles was red raw, peeling away. Abigail looked up at the sound of footsteps, abandoning the position where her face was hidden from behind her dirtied blonde hair, which had strands turn into sticks from the amount of mud that had matted through it.

Steve had seen many injuries before, some too horrible to name, what he saw in front of him wasn't anywhere near as bad as what he saw in the war, but it still managed to horrify him, it created a deep, dark hole that devoured all of his bitterness and replaced it with dread.

Abigail had a black eye, two bruises on the right corner of her upper lip, four scratches on her right cheek and blood dribbling from her nose.

Steve swooped into action, pulling several hundred tissues that rested on a nearby coffee table and pressed it to Abigail's nose, pinching it lightly. Abigail swatted at his hand, only for Steve to swat her hand right back and leant her head forward, allowing the blood to flow through her nose to the tissue rather than down her throat.

Neither of the Stark-Rogers spoke.  

After a few minutes, the door to the principal's office opened and he looked down upon the two.

"If you'd like to come inside." He held the door open, his other hand raised in motion for them to enter the room.

Steve nodded, looked down at Abigail to make sure she'd take over in holding the tissue, then walked into the office with Abigail sliding off the chair behind him.

"Mrs Osborn, how are you?" Steve internally cringed, of course, Abi had gotten into a fight with Harry, she couldn't keep her hands off the little jerk.  

Who, by the way, looked way worse than Abigail. (Steve felt a little guilty about feeling proud of his baby girl.)

Emily Osborn did not look impressed, she nodded politely but Steve could tell by her thin lips that she was restraining herself; if the way she tightly gripped her handbag until her knuckles turned white had any indication. 

By the time Abigail had entered the room, Harry had turned on the water works. 

"Sir! It wasn't my fault, as I told my mother, I was simply talking about my dad's business when I was suddenly attacked by her-"

The principal shut the door and promptly sat at his desk, his hands waved around, gesturing for Steve and Abigail to take a seat. He then placed his fingers on the bridge of his nose, and then looked up at Steve.

"Could Mr Stark not be here today?"

Steve bit the inside of his teeth at the missing hyphen and name.

"No," he gritted out, "my apologies. I was only able to come because it was my day off, you see?" The principal nodded, "Tony is busy at the moment."

The principle swayed in his chair, quietly surveying the four other occupants in his room. Abigail looked up at her pops with her head tilted sideways, eyebrows scrunched up.

"Could you call him, please, it's imperative for him to hear this."

Steve sputtered. Was that allowed? Is that how meetings with a principal supposed to happen? With all his doubt, Steve still dialled Tony's number.

"S'up babe?" Steve clenched his leg muscles. 

"You're on speaker, Tony, behave." Steve hissed before tapping the speaker button.

Maybe Steve had just assumed that Tony knew that he was in a meeting, maybe he thought he told Tony that he was going to meet with Abigail's principle. Maybe.

God, how he wished Abigail had wanted to go to public school like Peter.

So when Tony, on speaker, had responded with "Or what, you'll spank me?", you could validate Steve's wishes.

Needless to say, his eight-year-old daughter burst out into hysterical laughter and fell off her chair, while Mrs Osborn covered her ten-year-old son's ears.

Looks like Peter's best friend wasn't coming to his birthday party this year.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment telling me if you enjoyed it or not, or what you might like for me to write next! <3


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